


13/04 Monday 2. Gentleman

by Lif61 (UltimateFandomTrash)



Series: #SpnStayAtHome [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demons, M/M, Party, Prompt Fill, SPNStayAtHome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:02:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23756575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltimateFandomTrash/pseuds/Lif61
Summary: Dean takes Castiel to a party for their case, but their evening gets interrupted by a demon.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: #SpnStayAtHome [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1704448
Kudos: 16





	13/04 Monday 2. Gentleman

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this for #SpnStayAtHome on tumblr! Yep, I'm a week late with this. I'll try to get out the next prompt today.

Castiel straightened Dean’s bowtie, even though, strictly speaking, this was his first time being up close with such a clothing accessory. The first time he’d seen it, he’d asked, “Why do you have a bow around your neck?” Dean had laughed, and then told him Cas needed one too.

With Dean’s bowtie straightened, the hunter was now tying his for him.

“I thought we were hunting,” Castiel said.

“We are,” Dean answered, taking a brief moment to glance up into Castiel’s eyes and give him a smile. Castiel, as usual, was too stunned by that smile and its close proximity, to smile back. He just stared. What else was he supposed to do when faced with the most beautiful human on Earth? “Sometimes hunting gives us some perks.”

“Perks?” Castiel asked. “I wouldn’t think you’d be one to enjoy dressing up.”

Dean finished with Castiel’s bowtie, and then brushed his fingers against his cheek, giving him that smile  _ yet again _ . “Yeah, sometimes. Besides, sneaking into a fancy party is totally fun. See, the rich shmucks think you’re one of them, and the joke is, you’re not.”

Dean held Castiel at arm’s length, and then looked him over. Castiel observed Dean in the same way, though he wasn’t sure what he was looking for. In flannel, in a suit, without clothes — Dean was always beautiful to him.

“Uh, lose the jacket,” Dean said.

Castiel took hold of his overcoat, and stared at it somewhat longingly. But, he did as Dean said, folding it up and handing it to him once it was off. Was it just his imagination or did Dean’s fingers grip tight at the fabric, like he was trying to keep a piece of Castiel with him?

“Where’s Sam?” Castiel asked, as they started heading out of the house they were squatting at. He placed the overcoat on a chest by the door.

“Sam,” Dean answered, “is doing the less fun job. He lost rock, paper, scissors.”

Castiel stared at Dean, even tilted his head at him. “No, he didn’t.”

“Okay, fine,” Dean answered, cheeks flushing. “No, he didn’t. I bribed him.”

They started heading out the door, Castiel putting a hand to Dean’s elbow.

“Bribing your bother — I didn’t know that was allowed in rock, paper, scissors.”

“It’s not. But at least we’re not stuck in a graveyard waiting for some ghost to pull a no-show. Come on.”

It was a long ride to the party, but as Dean drove, even with the windows up, Castiel could smell salt off the water brought to them by a cool ocean breeze. The drive up to the large building the party was being held at was all gravel. It looked like a mansion, jutting out over the ocean, and it was decorated in lights. From the Impala, Castiel could see that the walkway up to the ornately carved, oaken double doors was laden with rounded, flat stones made to look like giant sand dollars. Sparkling white lights wrapped around the rails on either side.

“Okay,” Dean began as they pulled up, “we have to act like gentlemen.”

Cas gave him a smile. “What does that mean?”

“No weird angel crap,” he answered.

Castiel retorted, grabbing Dean’s shoulder and squeezing lovingly, “No weird hunter crap, then.”

Dean shot him finger guns. “See? You’re getting it.”

The stroll up to the mansion ruffled Castiel’s hair, and he could hear the ocean crashing against rocks, and the cliffside down below. Off to the left once they got up on the bluff there was a patio, the moon shining above it, reflecting in the deep, dark waters underneath. Castiel wanted to pause there with Dean for a moment, but his boyfriend took him up the steps. They were arm in arm.

At least it couldn’t have been too fancy a party because they had to open the doors themselves — but it didn’t escape Castiel’s notice that the doorhandles were golden. Once inside, he realized his assessment had been wrong. This was a  _ very _ fancy party. Men in expensive suits talked in the entryway with women in long dresses, most of which revealed shoulders, collarbones, and quite a bit of cleavage. For a quick second, Castiel worried Dean would have eyes for the women, but when he looked to his boyfriend, Dean’s eyes were all his.

An older woman in dress pants, a button-up shirt, and a black vest came to them.

“Invitations?” she asked.

Castiel took the invitations —  _ forged _ invitations — Dean had given him and handed them to the woman. Knowing how to pretend to be important, he nodded at her kindly, and then strolled on past. Why wait to see if their invitations were alright? The story was that they’d been invited, so of course they could just enter the party.

The entry hall was made up of an intricately tiled floor. Off to the left, close to the entrance, Castiel could see that a room opened up, the dark wood forming a bar inside, and drinks sparkled against the light. Before them was a low, large circular table of wood, chairs with dark leather padding ringed around it. And to the left of that, a fire crackled in a fireplace of green marble. A massive staircase was on their right, other halls seeming to branch off under it. Just ahead, doors with windows opened into a wide, bright room of all white. That was where some guests seemed to be dining. Candles were in ornate lanterns on perfectly white tablecloths, and flowers adorned each table. Beyond that Castiel could see windows that were nearly floor-to-ceiling. They showed them the wide breadth of the ocean.

It was rare that Castiel was in such a beautiful place on Earth. Usually with Sam and Dean, they stayed low to the ground, where the monsters would be. In crappy motels, alleys, abandoned warehouses, graveyards.

But this, well, Castiel hadn’t known this side to hunting before.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Dean asked. “I scoped out the place last night. After hours, of course. Whatever we’re looking for, it sure wasn’t around then. One of the patrons surely has the object.”

“And Sam? Will he be alright?”

Dean shrugged as the walked further into the mansion. “Yeah, well, you know Sam. He’d probably hate being here anyway.”

Sam sat on a gravestone in the graveyard their “Casper the friendly ghost” had been buried in. His hands were in the pockets of his jacket to keep them warm in the night air. Candles from his séance flickered, shadows playing across the ground. Sam puffed out his cheeks, blowing out a long breath, tapping his feet in complete boredom.

“Great,” he muttered.

He’d already been alone there for some time, and he’d had no luck.

Dean and Cas were probably having the all the fun. He was so bored he’d sell his right foot to be with them instead of here.

The night wore on. Castiel didn’t find many of the guests as entertaining as he wished. It was hard to be in competition with Dean Winchester. Things had been going rather well, it had seemed, until Castiel saw one of the guests’ true faces. What in the world was a demon doing showing up to a hunt involving a ghost? It was possible it had heard they were in the area, and didn’t want to lose the opportunity.

Castiel stopped in his tracks when he saw them. He stood at the bottom of the staircase, about to ascend it. The demon had been descending. Dean tugged at Cas.

“Hey, baby, come on. They’re serving more food upstairs. You know I want some of those oysters.”

Castiel summoned his angel blade.

Dean stared down, frowning.

“Uh, Cas, not that I’m against you being stabby or anything, but showing your weapon at a party isn’t gentlemanly.”

“Dean, go to the Impala, get the spare angel blade in the trunk.”

“What? Why?”

Castiel pointed at the man smiling, coming closer to them. His eyes had gone black.

Castiel could smell Dean’s nerves. But then Dean kissed him on the cheek, and took off down the steps, through the entryway, and out the door.

There were screams coming from the mansion when Dean got back up to the bluff, angel blade in hand.

It was pure chaos inside the mansion. Castiel and the demon fought inside the entryway, and couples bejeweled in finery were desperately trying to scramble out of the way. A few bodies were on the stairs, either dead already or on the way there. They were bleeding out.

Castiel crashed down against the round table in the entryway, wood shattering beneath the force of his fall and his weight crashing down on top of it. The demon grabbed Cas by the throat, and backed him up towards the fire, head banging against the mantlepiece. Sparks singed Castiel’s suit.

Dean was about to go help him, but Cas fought the demon off, pushing them back.

Dean started rounding up guests. “Okay, okay. This way. Get behind the bar.”

But that area started filling up quick, and there were others too far away. The demon was body-hopping too, not just to keep Castiel on his toes, it seemed, but to use the humans to kill each other.

Dean got some people safe under the stairs, a few in the women’s bathroom, and some in the long, walk-in closet with all the coats.

But he cursed, realizing everything was too spread out. There were still people coming from the stairs to peer over the top of the railing and see what was happening. The demon took that as an advantage to fling guests to their deaths.

Realizing he couldn’t help them anymore without getting into the fight, he stood amidst the blood and broken glass and shattered wood, angel blade in hand.

“Hey!”

The demon had gone back into its original body (well, if body-snatching counted as its original body).

“You looking for me?” Dean asked.

“I’m here for you,  _ and  _ the angel,” the demon answered.

Dean kept it talking as Castiel came up from behind.

“Lucky for you, we’re both here.” Dean started to pace, doing anything to keep the demon from wanting to turn around. “What brought you here anyway? Don’t tell me it was the cheap tourism.”

“Where the Winchesters go, I follow.”

“Yeah, ‘cause that isn’t stalkery at all. Look, buddy, not to be rude, but I’ve already got a date for the evening. You mind doing us all a favor and sending yourself downstairs? I’ll help. Free of charge.  _ Excorcizamus te, omnis immundu _ —”

The demon lunged for Dean, even as its body contorted from the power of the exorcism. Dean came up, ready to take some blows if that’s what it took to get this thing stabbed and killed. His blade rammed up into its ribcage. Castiel came from behind and pierced it in the back.

The demon sparked out in orange light, body falling to the floor, blood trickling out of it. Dean leaned down to wipe the angel blade he had on the dead guy’s jacket.

“That wasn’t very gentlemanly of you,” Dean told Cas.

Castiel argued, some levity in his rough voice, “I wasn’t the one who stabbed him first.”

Castiel put his blade… wherever he put it — the void or something — and then he said, “I’ll call Sam.”

“Yeah, I think he’d want to get in on our gentleman escapades.”

Castiel squinted his eyes at him. “What is it with you and that word?”

Dean straightened his bowtie, feeling hot blood that had splattered on it get on his fingers.

“It’s the bowtie,” he responded.

Castiel just rolled his eyes, but he pulled Dean into a kiss.


End file.
